


Inheriting The Wind

by acommontater



Series: The Inbetweens [5]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Backstory, Character Study, F/M, Family Dynamics, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up, Minor Aang/Katara, Non-Linear Narrative, Tenzin centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29273007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acommontater/pseuds/acommontater
Summary: Years and moments throughout the life of Tenzin, son of Master Katara and Avatar Aang.(Or, Tenzin, in the aftermath of gaining his father's least coveted title.)
Relationships: Aang & Tenzin (Avatar), Katara & Tenzin (Avatar), Lin Beifong & Tenzin, Lin Beifong/Tenzin, Pema & Tenzin (Avatar), Pema/Tenzin (Avatar), Tenzin & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: The Inbetweens [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046899
Comments: 14
Kudos: 35





	1. North

**Author's Note:**

> So, originally this was going to be a much shorter piece about Tenzin getting his mastery tattoos. Then it was going to be that and a quick character study. And then it just... kept going. And here we are.  
> I have never posted a fic chapter by chapter before (it's a personal preference to post everything at once) but given the length that this work became, it would simply be unfair to dump it all out at once. (My aim is to update at least weekly, but with the wackiness of this year, it could vary wildly. But it will be finished!) Feel free to let me know if there are any glaring grammar/spelling/etc mistakes. Tags will be updated by chapter as needed.  
> The premise of this fic is basically tl:dr, head full many thoughts about Tenzin.
> 
> Title is from Inherit The Wind, by Elvis Presley. (The working title was a note to myself that just said 'do not name this Cat's Cradle I s2G.' so.)

Tenzin is seventeen when his father finally ( _finally_!) says that he’s earned his arrows. He nearly vibrates out of his skin with excitement and Aang beams proudly at him.

“Which temple would you like to go to?” he asks as they walk back to the house to tell the rest of the family the news.

Tenzin pretends to consider it, as if it isn’t something he’s been thinking about daily for the last four years.

“The Southern Air temple, like you.” He says.

His father stops walking, closing his eyes and taking a deep shuddering breath.

“Dad?”

Aang rests a heavy hand on his shoulder and when he opens his eyes to look at Tenzin they are overly bright.

“I’ll start on our travel plans first thing in the morning. But first, let’s go tell your mother the big news.”

Katara is thrilled and squeezes them both in a big hug. His father disappears into the temple to update the abbot and a few others who need to know that he’ll be gone for the next two weeks. Tenzin helps his mother pack some supplies and basic essentials into tightly woven baskets made by their family down south. Tenzin catches himself tracing the patterns of the carefully plaited and wax sealed lid around and around- the wolf for strength, a water spiral for smooth travel, a bird to ensure that they find land again- until his mom catches his hand.

“Nervous?” Katara asks gently, pulling him away from the baskets.

“More in shock still, I think.” Tenzin says as he lets himself be led to sit down. “There was definitely part of me that was starting to worry I’d really never be good enough to be a master.”

His mom squeezes his hand gently with a soft smile.

“Well, _I_ always knew you’d get there.” Katara says certainly.

Tenzin resists rolling his eyes and bites back a laugh.

“You’re my _mom_ , you _have_ to say that.”

“I have never in my life said anything out of obligation and I have no intention of starting now.” She stands up and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m so proud of you and I know your father is thrilled to bits. Travel safe and I’ll see you for your welcoming ceremony.”

“Thanks, mom.”

Tenzin stands and leaves the room, wandering a bit aimlessly until he finds himself outside in the quiet evening air. It’s a warm summer night, so he’s grateful for the light airbending robes as he stares up at the stars. He wonders if the starts are old ancestors or spirits looking down on them like some legends say. He wonders if Bumi or Kya are looking at the same stars as him or if they’re somewhere far enough away that they’re looking at entirely different constellations that night.

“I earned my tattoos.” Tenzin whispers, as if the stars would pass it along to them.

It brings a lump to his throat for some reason. Who is there to tell that will truly care or understand what it means to him?

He wanders down to the stables. Oogie lifts his head and grumbles a greeting when he spots him. Appa looks at him and flicks a lazy ear his way before going back to sleep.

“Hey, Oogie.” Tenzin pets his forelock, lingering on the loose arrow in his fur, before pressing his head against the bison’s. “Guess what? Dad said I earned my tattoos today! That means I’m a master airbender too, and I get matching arrows to you. Neat right?”

Oogie lets out a quiet roar and licks him happily. Tenzin laughs.

“I guess it’s easier for you, huh boy? No levels or forms to learn, you just get to fly and be a master at it.” Tenzin buries his face in Oogie’s fur. “You don’t have to worry about teaching your kids one day, they’ll just… know.”

He thinks about Lin and tries to picture them in the future- older, married, with kids. Maybe they would have a mix of bending types too, earth and air would definitely be possibilities, he thinks, maybe even water given his mother’s side of the family. But the more he tries to picture it, the more the image slips away from him. He shrugs it off. They’re young, it’s way too soon to be thinking about any of that.

Tenzin sits with Oogie a while longer, relaxing against his soft fur and the slow, steady breathing in the cave of the bison. Then he goes back up to his home and prepare himself for the next step of his life.

(Tomorrow, he’ll wake up early and go into the city for a celebratory breakfast with Lin and she’ll excitedly show him the acceptance letter she got from the official metalbending corps. They’ll toast their teacups together and celebrate how everything is going right for them.)

//

Less than two decades later, Tenzin watches the dim grey light of pre-dawn with blurred vison. He tries to focus on his morning meditation, the ritual of it, the let go, let go, let _go_ …. The empty space beside him feels like the hollow of his own chest.

Hurried footsteps break what little concentration he’d managed, and Lin turns the corner, her hair thrown back haphazardly and still in civilian clothes.

“I came as soon as I got your note.” She breathes, kneeling beside him. Her eyes are red-rimmed as well when Tenzin meets her gaze. “Oh, Tenzin.”

Lin reaches out and pulls him into a tight hug. Tenzin clutches her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder.

He is sick of crying. It hasn’t even been a day and he is already sick of it. He doesn’t want this new and horrible ache in his chest, doesn’t want to carry it with him for the rest of his life.

He sobs into the soft cloth of Lin’s jacket, collapses into her in a way he hasn’t allowed himself to yet.

She holds him tightly and he can feel her shaking with her own tears alongside him.

Tenzin doesn’t know how long it’s been before he runs out of tears, for the moment. At some point, Lin shifted them to be half laying on the ground, a rough support bent up from the earth. He listens to her steady breathing and focuses on matching it.

“It is terrible,” he says quietly, voice rough and wet after several long minutes. “if all I can think is that know I truly understand him?”

He can feel the motion of Lin shaking her head above his own.

“No, but it’s not fair that you do.” She answers sadly.

Tenzin closes his eyes. They burn a little, but he simply has no more tears left. He focuses on Lin’s heartbeat, steady and sure as the rocks she bends so easily. It thuds reassuringly back at him. Lin’s fingers gently trace over his scalp along the edges of his tattoo, back and forth, back and forth. He lets the two rhythms wipe away the thoughts that keep running in circles in his head.

_The last, the last, the last …._

Tenzin, son of Master Katara and Avatar Aang, now passed, the last airbendering master.

//

They reach the Southern Temple after a couple days of travel.

Tenzin is surprised when no one comes to greet them. He hops down off of Oogie and unloads his bags.

“Are the acolytes not here?” he asks as he helps his dad unload Appa’s saddle.

“I requested that they give us space during your ceremony and the preparation.” His father answers, handing him one of the baskets. Tenzin bites back a grimace as he reads between the lines- Abbot Shung was great, but he could be a bit over-bearing and had probably wanted to assist with the ceremony himself.

“Thanks.” Tenzin says, with maybe a bit too much relief if his dad’s muffled laugh is to be believed.

They put the few things they’d brought with them in their rooms- Tenzin in the cell he’d always liked because of the view of the sunrise, and his dad down the hall in one of the elder monk’s rooms. (He’d always stayed there, for as long as Tenzin could remember. He claimed it was more comfortable than the rooms set aside for the Avatar’s use.) They meet back out in the hall, his father holding two large woven baskets. He hands one to Tenzin with a slightly apologetic look.

“In the past,” he explains as they heft the baskets onto their backs and walk down to exit the temple proper to start down a path to the lower gardens and orchards in the valley. “when there were regular tattoo ceremonies, there would be ink on hand. But we’re going to start fresh and then have a nice new batch to work with!”

“You know how to make it?” Tenzin asks, surprised. Aang sighs.

“In theory, but thankfully several of my past lives are willing to help, if you’re okay with that.”

Tenzin hesitates for a moment. He knows that his dad is the Avatar, and that him being the Avatar doesn’t make him any less of his dad, but it’s still sometimes a strange thing to contemplate. He hates the idea that his dad won’t really be present for such an important event in their lives, even though he knows there aren’t exactly other options.

“Sure,” He says. “that’s fine.”

It’s a long couple of hours down the side of the mountain until they reach a location his father identifies as where they need to be. It would have only taken them minutes on their gliders, but Tenzin likes to keep with tradition, so no bending until his tattoos are complete. (His feet ache in protest at him.)

“Ready?” Aang asks, looking at Tenzin. Tenzin nods.

Aang closes his eyes and takes a deeps breath. When he lets it out and opens his eyes, the Avatar looks back at Tenzin.

Tenzin trails behind the glowing figure of the Avatar as they identify the right types of bushes. They cut branches of the right suppleness and length, filling the large baskets strapped to their backs as they navigate the steep mountain side. It takes two days of low simmering and cooling, then another three of crushing and drying and mixing until the ink is deemed ready. During the long process to make the dye, Tenzin ventures out with the Avatar again to find the wood to create the tools needed. They cut down several slender, towering stems of bamboo and haul them back to the temple. Tenzin watches the Avatar carefully draw water from the fresh cuttings under they are dry and sturdy as in any Earth Kingdom house. The tubes are then carved into long needles with tips so sharp it makes Tenzin shiver. When the main carving is done, his father returns, clearly exhausted. He smiles tiredly at Tenzin.

“We should be ready to begin in the morning, sound good?”

Heart in his throat, Tenzin nods.

The next day, Tenzin wakes up before the dawn and makes the long trek from the temple to the waterfall that drapes down over one of the craggy ledges far below the temple grounds. He knows that this part isn’t necessary, mostly done by the nuns of the Eastern Temple anyway, but he wants to do this right. He only gets one opportunity for this in his life and he wants do as much of it properly, like all the airbenders that came before him.

Tenzin sets the bag he’d brought aside, out of reach of the water’s spray, along with his outmost robes. He shaves carefully, making sure to leave no odd hairs out of place. Old carvings loom above him in the stone of the mountain. The few features that can still be made out in the weather rock remind him of his Aunt Toph’s flat, watchful gaze.

Then he cautiously makes his way to sit under the waterfall itself. The initial shock of the icy water makes him flinch, stinging against the fresh skin of his scalp as he settles into an easy position for morning meditation. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, focusing on relaxing into the rhythm of the pounding water. Tenzin adjusts to the temperature of the water, the icy needles fading into a numb pressure. He lets himself drift and contemplates the generations who came before him. Pictures the hundred or thousands of monks who had come to this place and sat where he sits, with the same kind of thoughts running through their minds. The weight of the water on his shoulders feels almost like hands resting against his skin before they slip away again.

Tenzin can feel the rising sun slowly start to warm his feet when he finally opens his eyes. He carefully stretches and moves out of the waterfall. The dry, warm robes are a relief after the chill of the water, as is the container of hot tea he’d packed. He slowly comes back to his body as the warmth from the new sunlight and the tea in his hands and stomach seeps in. Tenzin closes his eyes and lets it sink in.

He feels at peace.

And he can feel with a strange certainty that, for today at least, he is not alone. They are not alone. The weight of the millennia of airbenders that came before him, that he will never truly know, has fallen away for the moment. With his eyes closed he can almost feel them with him. He knows that when he opens his eyes and returns to the temple, the echoes of their spirits will walk with him on this journey.

Tenzin takes a deep breath. Lets it out. And opens his eyes.

He’s ready.

//

Tenzin isn’t ready for this next part of his life.

It feels like the very ground under him has shifted and set him off-kilter in the world he thought he knew. It reminds him of when they were young and getting used to boating for the first time. He feels adrift and can’t quite bring himself back to the present. He can’t follow the thread of what’s happened in the conversation, still struggling to find his balance.

“We’re his children too!” Kya hisses angrily. (The fight is quiet, down on the beach in the cove of the island so that they don’t risk disturbing their mother or other family currently staying with them.)

Tenzin forces himself to bite his tongue.

You got a choice, he wants to say, to scream at them. You two were born with freedom, you got to choose. You weren’t given the task of being the Avatar’s waterbending teacher at your birth. You and Bumi both got to leave, you chose to leave. They don’t get to come back and be mad at him for this. They _left_. They made their choice.

When he was younger he’d been bitter and jealous of the freedom his two siblings had in their lives. He loves being an airbender, he loves carrying on and teaching their culture and having people find joy in it. He does. But there are days where the ink in his skin feels like it’s made of steel, slowing dragging him down with the weight of all it represents.

It’s something Bumi and Kya can never understand.

(As a child, there were nights where he’d go to bed and wish with all his might that his brother would wake up and be an airbender too. That he and dad wouldn’t be so alone anymore. But eventually he got old enough to realize that Bumi was well past the age that any bending capabilities would have shown up. This was something for him alone.)

When he’d first received his master’s tattoos they had made him feel like he could fly. His father was so proud. The family had a celebratory dinner together after the small unveiling ceremony they held in the island temple. Tenzin had learned about master’s tattoo ceremonies, how they were a gathering for the whole temple in the spring, after the yearly cleansing, with several days a feasts and celebrations for all the newly anointed. He had pushed back his hood and looked out at his family and the handful of acolytes who lived on the island smiling at him. He’d looked at his father, with pride and tears on his face as he bent a circle of air to carry the incense and ring the chimes around the room. Even here, in the midst of one of the best days of his life, he and his father carry an undercurrent of grief. For the dozens of airbenders that should have been there alongside him, the other masters that should have been ringing the chimes.

Tenzin and his father were always defined by loss.

The Last Airbender was a title that trailed after his father’s name even long after Tenzin’s birth. Avatar Aang, the last airbender, master of the elements, ender of the hundred-year war, hero and protector to the world. Tenzin hates it. Hates that they are constantly reminded of their greatest grief.

(Those outside of their family only ever meet Avatar Aang; gentle and smiling and seemingly able to work through the problems of the world with a few words and a wave of his hand. But they don’t know his father. They don’t know how he would make time to play games with them, to tell them stories of his travels and history, to teach them bending forms. How there were sometimes days where he would vanish, and their mother would quietly tell them that he just needed to rest for the day. The days that Tenzin remembers as a child where his father’s grief would weigh him down until he couldn’t even leave bed. He hadn’t thought about it until he was older. When they were young it was merely a fact of life- his father had days where he couldn’t get out of bed, his mother didn’t sleep during lightning storms or the full moon, don’t startle any of their aunts or uncles, and the sky is blue.)

//

Tenzin returns to the temple clear-headed and balanced. His father greets him with a hug. Tenzin returns it tightly.

“Ready?” Aang asks.

“Yes.” Tenzin answers. He pulls back from his father’s hold and puts a hand over his own chest. “They’re here with us today.”

His father gives him a gentle smile.

“They always are.”

Together they walk back into the temple. They pass the sculpture of Brother Gyatso at the entrance and Tenzin bows respectfully. His father pauses for a moment, bending to touch his forehead to where the wooden monk’s hands rest together. He murmurs something that Tenzin can’t hear before straightening up and continuing onward.

They settle into the room his father had prepared and Tenzin sets up upper robes aside. He eyes the long, sharp needles they’d prepared for a moment- there are seven, one for each limb, his back, and head, plus extra just in case- then lays down on the table. As he settles down, he remembers that the tattoos were traditionally spirit-guided. He smothers a snort- he wonders if there are any arbitrary points earned by having his tattoos very literally spirit-given.

His father’s warm hand rests briefly on his shoulder so he doesn’t startle him as he applies the guiding ink lines to his legs. The white light of the Avatar is bright in the room and Tenzin closes his eyes.

The dull burn of the needle slowly fades into a background kind of hum. Tenzin focuses on simple mantras that he can repeat and not focus on the gentle pain slowly spreading across his back. He knows that normally this would be the work of several monks or nuns working together to work from the feet upwards in tandem. Tenzin just has his father, sometimes not even him as he communes with the other Avatars for guidance.

(Tenzin knows what this ceremony should be, what the masters welcoming ceremony should be, and has known for a long time that he would never have it. He gave up being bitter about it, has done his grieving for the traditions he knows by heart, into his bones, but will never be able to have for himself. Maybe someday he will be able to gift it to someone else- his children or maybe a niece or nephew.)

The pot of thick healing salve is not traditional, from Fire Nation healers, a gift from his Uncle Zuko who swears by it. The strong smell of herbal tea and medicine makes Tenzin’s nose wrinkle as his father daubs a thick layer on over the tops of his feet and the winding pattern up to his knees, followed by a layer of broad steamed leaves bound into place by soft cloth wound around over the top. (He can also feel the subtle healing tingle as his father guides some water over his skin before applying the poultice and bindings. His mother may be the renowned healer, but his father could do a dab hand for bumps, bruises, and scrapes.)

A day for each section of his legs, to ensure grounding. A day for each section of his arms, for guidance. A day for his back, for connection and balance. A day for his head, for wisdom and light. And one day of rest and meditation before being presented to the world as a master.

After the final day, Tenzin is finally able to look at his reflection. He gingerly touches the tender skin of his forehead, staring at the blue ink standing out against his skin. He finally feels at home in his skin, as if he has been waiting all his life to carry this ink with him. He dresses in the soft, formal robes before seeking out his father. Aang is waiting for him in the kitchens with breakfast sitting out for them.

He looks up when Tenzin enters. Tenzin grins widely at him. His father gives him a watery smile in return, letting out a low chuckle when Tenzin steps forward and hugs him tightly, uncaring of his tender skin.

“Congratulations,” he says, voice rough. “you did so very well, I couldn’t be more proud.”

Tenzin feels like he might be able to fly without even bending he feels so light.

//

Tenzin knows he resembles his father, even without the tattoos and robes.

Normally, knowing this is a comfort, something he’s proud of. A constant reminder of the legacy and culture he’s been tasked with carrying. (Most days this is something he cherishes, this connection between him and his father, but there are days where it feels like a boulder resting on his chest.)

For the first time in his life, he avoids mirrors.

He knows that it’s hard for his family too.

Tenzin catches his mother having to compose herself when he catches her off-guard entering a room, sees how Kya looks him purposefully in the eye and nowhere else, how Bumi can only glance at him.

He looks like his father and his father is gone.

Tenzin feels like a ghost in his own home.

(They do not even speak his father’s name, keep it tucked behind their teeth and bitten back on their tongues so that they do not risk confusing his spirit by having his family accidentally calling him back in the hundred days of travel to final rest. His father may not have been Water Tribe by birth, but he was theirs all the same. Tenzin loathes the small part of himself that wants to say his name, to make him come back to them, even though he knows he won’t.)

He sees his mother and siblings off on their respective boats, watching from the island until they are specks on the horizon, before he goes on a retreat. He lets his family, Lin, and the head acolytes of the temple know where he’s going.

(In the weeks before he leaves, he finds himself meditating, concentrating, hoping….

“You know even if you make into the spirit world, you won’t find him.” Bumi’s voice is soft behind where he sits. Tenzin can picture his brother’s stance without needing to turn around- he knows Bumi is leaning easily against the doorframe, hovering without crossing the threshold of the meditation room. He clenches his jaw.

“What would _you_ know about it?” Tenzin snaps, before he can help himself.

He regrets it almost as soon as he says it. He turns around to apologize, but he meets his brother’s hurt glare for only a split second before Bumi turns on his heel and is gone before Tenzin can even open his mouth.)

He and Oogie fly north away from the city and Tenzin doesn’t look back at it.

//

When Tenzin is fifteen, he runs away from home.

It’s easier for him than most (or just about any other kid on the planet). He carefully slips out of his window and sneaks across the island to the stables. Oogie opens an eye to look at him and whuffs questioningly.

“Shh, quietly okay?” Tenzin whispers, shooting a nervous glance at a slumbering Appa.

They sneak out of the stables and take off from the island without being noticed.

Tenzin is full of a horrible, directionless anger. He can’t decide what exactly he’s furious with- his parents, himself, the world, everything. It’s awful, everything in the world is awful and he feels like he’s swallowed acid. Tenzin can almost hear his father’s voice in his ears with one of his oh-so-wise sayings about anger and it makes him want to scream.

He and Oogie fly aimlessly for a while. Just putting distance between himself and the city makes the tension drop from his shoulders a bit. (A small part of him feels guilty. He didn’t even leave a note.) Tenzin tries to think of anyone who would possibly understand what he’s dealing with. Then he tugs on Oogie’s reins and alters their course slightly.

(His mother, uncle, and grandfather had all taught them how to navigate by the stars. The stories his grandfather told them about the constellations were his favorite. The Hunter and The Maiden, GreatFish, Bridge of Stars, and all the others. His uncle had whispered the story of the brave and dutiful Moon Princess to him as they sat outside on a freezing cold, clear, night. The moon had been bright and full, the rest of their family asleep or off doing waterbending training. Tenzin had stared up at the moon- a lone silver disk eternally committed to her important never-ending work in the sky- and wondered if she was lonely being so far away from all the other stars.)

He lands at the Fire Nation capital by mid-afternoon and almost feels bad for startling the guards at the stables. But he forces that away and ignores them instead, focusing instead on brushing Oogie down and getting him settled in his usual stall.

“You do realize that your parents are two of the few people in the world who could get away with assassinating me for kidnapping their child right? You’re fine risking your poor old uncle’s life like this? Your mother would have my head on a pike.”

Tenzin pointedly doesn’t look over.

“Hi, Uncle Zu.”

The Fire Lord comes into his peripheral vision, hands tucked easily in his wide sleeves as he watches Tenzin fiddle with his saddle. He waits patiently. Tenzin runs out of things to do with Oogie or his tack and stands awkwardly for a long moment before he can steel himself to face his uncle.

“Um. Can I stay in a guest room tonight?”

Zuko raises his eyebrow at him.

“That will depend on your answers to a few questions. Number one, will it cause any kind of international incident if you’re here?”

Tenzin shakes his head.

“Number two, do your parents know you’re here right now?”

Tenzin hunches his shoulders.

“No.”

“Number three, do you want to share the reason you’re here?”

“No, I don’t know, I just… I just couldn’t be at home right now.” Tenzin mutters.

His uncle gives him a measured look for a long moment.

“You may stay, under a few conditions. First, I’m going to send a notice to Republic City so that your parents know that you’re safe. Second, you accompany me for some tea. Third, you have to make it look like we’re discussing some kind of official business, because your timing got me out of two meetings with some _very_ stuffy advisors who did not appreciate it.” The Fire Lord tells him with a completely deadpan face.

Tenzin forces himself not to laugh. He is determined to hang on to his horrible mood.

“Okay.”

His uncle nods and turns to leave the stables. Tenzin follows him after a quick goodbye scratch to Oogie’s head. He gets shown to the guest room he’s used since he was little. He stares in the mirror for a moment. Then in a fit of pique, he yanks the yellow and orange robes off and changes into one of the soft silk outfits left in the wardrobe. The red and black is jarring in it’s unfamiliarity, but it suits how he feels at the moment. A palace employee shows him the way to where he’s to meet his uncle for tea. (As if he hasn’t been visiting here off and on since he was a baby.)

They end up in a small side courtyard at the back of the palace. Tenzin leans back on his palms, purposefully letting his legs sprawl out in front of himself. His uncle slowly makes a small pot of tea, the faint green, smokey scent of the steeping tea leaves drifting through the air. If he is surprised by Tenzin’s change in outfit, he doesn’t show it. Tenzin tips his head back, then lets his whole body fall back, laying in the soft grass and enjoying the sun on his face.

He sits up when he hears the soft sound of teacups being filled and set on the little table in front of them.

“Thanks, Uncle Zu.” He says as he takes the small cup on his side. The tea is a strong, smokey blend, so different from the usual gentle fruity or earthy teas at home. It’s refreshing.

The Fire Lord nods in acknowledgement and they sit quietly as they enjoy their tea. It’s like meditation, but it’s not, Tenzin thinks. Eventually the tea runs out and Tenzin sighs.

“Should I be concerned about why you felt you couldn’t stay at home?” Zuko’s voice is mild, his eyes closed as he tips his head back to absorb the warm sunlight.

Tenzin draws his legs up to wrap his arms around and rests his chin on top.

“No. It’s just… I couldn’t _take it_ anymore.”

“Take what?”

Tenzin gestures vaguely, trying to think.

“I’m just… I’m mad.”

His uncle nods, clearly pondering.

“About what?”

“I don’t know! I just _am_.” Tenzin lets his frustration into his tone.

“Are you mad at anyone in your family?”

“No!”

“Someone not in your family?” His uncle continues patiently as he refreshes the tea leaves in the pot.

“No, I-“

“Something that happened?”

Tenzin lets go of his legs.

“Nothing _happened_ , it’s just-“

“Something someone did?”

“I’m mad at myself!” Tenzin yells, slamming his hands down on the ground. The accidental blast of wind shoots straight up, completely rumpling their clothes and flattening a nearby bush in the aftershock. “I didn’t… I didn’t ask for this, I don’t- what if I’m not any good? It’s not fair! It’s not like I _asked_ to be an airbender!”

His breath catches in his throat and his eyes burn. He grips the ground under his hands tightly.

“You know, I never asked to be Fire Lord.” His uncle says, voice calm and even. “It was something I was born into and I knew I would have to serve my people for as long as I can remember.”

“At least you have a people to serve.” Tenzin snaps bitterly. Then he squeezes his eyes shut, biting back the apology that tries to escape. His uncle is quiet for a long moment.

“True enough.” He says eventually. “But why don’t you think you’ll be any good at whatever it is you think you’ll be bad at?”

Tenzin mutters under his breath. Zuko leans towards him.

“Didn’t quite catch that.”

“Because Dad doesn’t think I’m any good at airbending!”

He sneaks a glance at his uncle only to find a bewildered look on his face.

“Tenzin, if your father were to be any prouder of you and your siblings I’d have to start scheduling in an extra two hours for our official meetings. I’ve only recently been able to whittle him down to a half hour of talking about you kids and your accomplishments.”

Tenzin focuses his glare at an undeserving blade of grass.

“Yeah, well, I know he’s proud of me and everything, but it’s not like he ever asks me to _do_ anything official. I want to be a proper representative and leader of our people, but he doesn’t think I’m capable. It’s like I’m never going to catch up to where I need to be.”

“Tenzin, you’re only fifteen, you have the rest of your life left to learn everything. There’s plenty of time before you need to be a leader for the acolytes or anyone else.”

(He remembers this, through a haze of grief less than twenty years later when he inherits his father’s least coveted title. Plenty of time to learn. He will never feel he has learned enough.)

“I haven’t even earned my tattoos yet! I can’t even master airbending and that’s all I’m even good at.” Tenzin squeezes his knees. “Dad had already been a master for three _years_ when he was my age.”

“I think it’s a bit unfair to compare yourself to Aang, who is an annoyingly talented bender even without being the Avatar.” Zuko says dryly.

Tenzin huffs.

“Whatever.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes, Tenzin shifting his chin to look up at the clouds passing by in the blue sky.

“Has your father ever told you about how he found out he was the Avatar?” His uncle asks.

Tenzin shakes his head.

“No. Just that the elders in the temple told him before he got frozen.”

“The traditional age for the Avatar to begin training or to even officially know that they’re the Avatar is sixteen. Obviously, some find out sooner if they are more prodigious at bending, but it’s not required for them to assume any duties or serious training until sixteen.” Zuko says quietly. “Aang was twelve. The only reason he was told so soon was because there was fear of war on the horizon. He’d thought they were training him to take charge of the temple one day. Instead it was to care for the entire world.”

“Well, he does that now.” Tenzin points out.

“He wasn’t always _Avatar Aang_ , you know. When we first became friends, he was just Aang.” Zuko shifts in his seat, adjusting his robes to let his legs adjust. “He had to learn a lot of hard lessons those first few years. The rest of us had grown up in the war, while he’d had to wake up and adjust to every terrible thing that had happened in his absence, and then he had to take on the responsibility of the Avatar at an even younger age than you are now. Do _you_ feel ready to help bring an end to conflict throughout the entire world?”

“ _No_ , but-“ Tenzin is about to protest when Zuko cuts him off.

“Your father doesn’t want _you_ feeling that kind of pressure or responsibility yet, Tenzin.” His uncle’s voice is still gentle. “He knows what it is like taking on too much, too young. I became Fire Lord when I was only a little older than you are, and between the two of us we likely would have killed ourselves in the process of trying to help the world recover from the war if it hadn’t been for our friends and advisors.”

Zuko reaches out a hand and puts it on Tenzin’s shoulder.

“It is okay to take your time, Tenzin. Your father is just trying to make sure that you get to have your childhood. And if you feel ready to take on more responsibility, talk with him. I’m sure you two could figure something out.”

Tenzin sighs.

“What if he won’t listen?”

Zuko gives him an amused look.

“I don’t know if you know this, Tenzin, but your father is actually rather good at negotiations and compromises to make sure people get treated fairly.” He pulls his hand back and sets about cleaning up the tea set. “Do you really think that he wouldn’t want to hear what you have to say?”

“….no, he always listens.”

“I understand what it’s like to be afraid of not living up to your father’s expectations. And I know what it’s like to never be able to reach them.” Zuko sets the small tray with the tea set aside. “Tenzin, you’ve already exceeded your dad’s wildest dreams, just by existing. But if you feel like there’s more you want to do, just talk to him about it.”

Tenzin lets out a long breath.

“Okay. But not yet.”

The Fire Lord nods understandingly. Then he hefts himself up to his feet and holds out a hand for Tenzin. Tenzin takes it and gets up as well, automatically picking up the tea set.

“Plus, now you have something else in common with your father aside from airbending.” His uncle says as they head to leave the courtyard. Tenzin gives him a puzzled look.

“I do?”

“Yeah, now both of you have run away from home.” Zuko quirks a grin at Tenzin, who stops abruptly in his tracks.

“Dad _ran away from home_? When?”

“Oh, you’ll have to ask him about that, it’s not my story to tell. Neither is that time we broke out of a military fortress. Will you make sure that that tea set makes it back to my study? Thank you. I’ll see you later for dinner if my meetings don’t run overtime.” His uncle waves over his shoulder to Tenzin, who has stayed frozen in his spot watching the retreating back of the Fire Lord.

“Uncle Zu!” He cries reproachfully.

//

He finds himself at the Northern Air Temple first.

The library here is more limited than he is used to, but he finds himself unable to concentrate on the usually enthralling information. He wanders the temple and grounds instead, meandering the familiar routes.

He stops on the edge of one of the wide balconies, staring out over the mountains. The sun is warm as the perpetual breeze ruffles his cape and robes. Tenzin closes his eyes. He can almost feel the weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder as they stand looking out, his father pointing out the different peaks and their names and purposes.

He retreats back to the library and is surprised to find one of the acolytes in his vacated seat. Her brown hair is tucked up into a sensible bun at the base of her neck as she leans over the scroll he’d left on the desk, clearly enthralled with something she’d found.

Tenzin steps purposefully and lets his robes swish so that he doesn’t startle her. (He has had to pick up a few things to avoid accidental injury during a lifetime of unintentionally sneaking up behind people.)

The air acolyte waves a hand vaguely in his direction without looking away from the scroll.

“Just one more minute, Brother Jin-wei, then I’ll be on my way back to the kitchen to finish up.”

Tenzin stares at her, bemused. He stands awkwardly in the aisle until she eventually looks up and her eye go wide.

“Oh, Master Tenzin, I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s quite alright, it just seems that you’ve taken more of an interest in my afternoon reading than I was able to.” He sits down on the low reading bench next to the desk. “Apologies, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“No, we haven’t. I’m Acolyte Pema.” She says, bobbing her head in a quick bow. Pema seems to be studying his face when she looks back up, and he waits for the inevitable comment. “I didn’t realize how much you look like your mother.”

Pema slaps a hand over her mouth, looking mortified. Tenzin blinks at her.

“I… don’t think I’ve ever had someone tell me that before.” He admits honestly. Pema loses the tension in her posture and smiles at him.

“Well, it’s true. Your eyes especially. Master Katara always comes down to help in the kitchen when she visits, so I’ve met her a few times. She’s friends with my Uncle Teo.”

Tenzin can easily picture his mother jumping to help the acolytes cook in the wide kitchen spaces in the temple, her blue robes covered in flour standing out among the soft yellows and oranges of the air temple robes, standing next to Pema as they talk and prepare the food like he’d seen her do some many times in his life. It makes something go tight in his throat and he looks away, fingers twitching as he stops himself from reaching for the white scarf draped along his shoulder sash. (He is grateful how she deftly avoids the topic of his father. For now it is far to raw a wound. He doesn’t think he could handle it, not here, not yet.)

The awkward momentary pause doesn’t seem to faze Pema.

“So when I’m not working in the kitchens or helping out somewhere else, I like to come here to read and keep everything organized.” She continues, gesturing to the shelves around them. “A lot of the titles are unhelpful for figuring out where they belong, so reading them through is the only way to get a true idea of what they’re about. It’s been so fascinating.”

“You’ve actually read all of these? And… sorted the library?” Tenzin is surprised. Most acolytes do the reading of the main philosophies and histories, but don’t bother going beyond them. Pema looks sheepish.

“Yeah, it was just driving me nuts trying to find texts on different topics, and Jai is supposed to be in charge of it, but just kind of let me do what I wanted after a while. I’ve been cataloguing everything in here.”

Tenzin laughs at her boldness, then abruptly cuts himself off, shocked. Pema looks confused for a moment, then understanding.

“It’s been about a month right?” she asks gently. Tenzin closes his eyes and nods. “Do… are you okay to talk about him or would you rather I went on about the system I’ve developed for the texts here?”

“….the texts, if you don’t mind.” Tenzin opens his eyes when a hand takes his own.

Pema smiles at him again and stands, tugging gently at his hand.

“Let me show you, it’s easier if we go through the shelves. So, over here I…”

Tenzin trails behind her, listening intently to the detailed system Pema had developed over the course of reading the various texts. It’s loosens the tight knot in his chest slightly, hearing someone as passionate as him talking about his culture, his people. The tour of library eventually devolves into a conversation about the differences in philosophies between the different temples throughout the eras.

Tenzin doesn’t realize how long they’ve been talking until he looks up when the bells for evening gathering ring through the temple. Pema looks startled as well, setting down her bowl of noodles that they’d picked up from the kitchen earlier.

“Oh, gracious I didn’t even realize how late it’s gotten.” She says, surprised.

“Me either.” Tenzin admits.

They gather up their dishes and materials, setting things to rights before heading out to join the other acolytes for the evening. The sun dips behind the horizon and Pema waves her goodnights to him from across the courtyard before vanishing for some duties. Tenzin sits out in the courtyard until the sun finishes setting. He relishes the odd contentment that has swept over him for the afternoon. He hasn’t felt this light and happy since… He stands and makes his way to his room for the night.

Tenzin finds that he can’t sleep well, even with the familiar quiet sound of temple life and the breezes around the towers of the Northern Temple. Out of all the original air temples, he’d always felt the most at home here. Part of it was it being the one he’d visited the most growing up, seeing it transform throughout his childhood. Part of it was that it felt like the most… his- Yangchen’s shadow still looms large in the Eastern and Western temples even centuries later, and the Southern Temple is his father’s childhood home. The Northern temple was always a refuge for him. But not tonight, it would seem. Tenzin sighs and gets out of bed, resigning himself to a night of contemplation instead of sleep.

He paces out and around the temple grounds to one of the tallest towers, overlooking the surrounding mountains. He settles on the wide platform built out beyond the window. Originally it was a platform for glider take-off, but Tenzin has left his staff back in his room. The slow night breezes should be left alone, he thinks.

To his great surprise, he’s not the only one to retreat to this secluded platform. Acolyte Pema is sitting in a relaxed half-lotus just beyond the curve of the wall. He’s about to retreat back into the tower when she speaks.

“You can stay, it’s okay.” She says, not moving her gaze from the night sky. When he doesn’t move, she pats the platform beside her firmly.

Tenzin climbs out onto the platform, settling into the familiar position.

“I didn’t think anyone else would be out here.” He says.

“None of the other acolytes come up here, for obvious reasons-“ Pema glances down the long drop beyond the platform. “-so I find it a nice place to get some true alone time.”

“Were you contemplating something in the sky?”

Pema huffs out a laugh, then points up at the moon.

“It’s a full moon tonight. I like to catch some of the lucky moonbeams.” She cups her hands as if she can scoop the moonbeams out of thin air. “You can take the girl out of the Earth Kingdom, but you can’t take all the Earth Kingdom superstitions out of the girl I guess.”

“I used to talk to the moon, when I was a kid.” Tenzin says, joining Pema in staring up at the bright silvery disk.

“Did it ever talk back?” She asks.

Tenzin huffs out a soft laugh and shakes his head slightly.

“No, I don’t think so. My uncle and parents met her once though.”

“Met who?”

“The moon.” Pema finally looks over at him with a quizzical brow. Tenzin finds himself unable to stop a tiny smile from curling the corners of his mouth. He leans back against the tower wall. “It was my favorite story when I was a child- my uncle telling me about the brave princess who became the moon during the great Battle of the North.”

“Why did you like it so much?” Pema asks, shifting her position to let her feet dangle out over the edge.

Tenzin ponders the question for a long moment.

“I… haven’t thought about it. I suppose I liked how even though she couldn’t fight or truly face the enemy that threatened her people, Yue’s sacrifice is what ended up saving them in the end. D- Avatar Aang always speaks… spoke fondly of her.” He says eventually.

Pema is quiet for a moment, thinking his answer over.

“You must miss him a lot.” She says.

The conversation pauses for a long moment. Beyond his own family, no one has addressed him quite so bluntly. He pushes the thought away.

“Avatar Aang taught me that it’s like a wave in the ocean.” Tenzin says quietly, looking out into the distance over the dimly lit mountains. “The wave is just another way for the water to be, for a time. It’s not a sad thing, dying, just another part of life. The wave returning to the ocean.”

Pema shifts in her seat next to him, drawing her legs up from the ledge.

“Just because it’s a natural part of life doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be sad about your _father_ dying, Tenzin.” She says gently. “He might have been the Avatar to most of the world, but I’m sure he was much more than that to you and your family.”

Tenzin turns his face away from her, jaw clenching. His shoulder twitches like he wants to hunch down under his cloak for a moment. Pema waits patiently.

She closes her eyes and lets herself enjoy the light breeze that swirls around them and the silvery light of the moon above them. After several long moments, the rustle of fabric and a hitched breath causes her to open them again. Tenzin sits next to her, his face hidden in his hands as his shoulders shake. Pema extends a hand, cautiously touching his arm.

“I don’t know how to do this without him here to guide me.” He admits hoarsely.

Pema pulls him into a hug, tucking her chin over top the soft skin of his scalp. It’s an awkward position for a hug, but he grips at her arm across his chest like a lifeline.

“I’m sure that he prepared you the best that he could.” She says. “And you’re one of the most respected bending masters in the world, so even if you aren’t sure, I have every faith that you’ll be able to figure it out.”

“It would be nice to believe that right now.”

“Well, then I’ll just have to have enough belief for the both of us until you find it again.” She says firmly.

//

The first time they are attacked while traveling, Tenzin is seven.

He and his father are traveling back from a trip to the Western Air Temple when something shoots up out of the trees below them. Appa gives an annoyed bellow and climbs higher into the sky as more projectiles are flung from the treeline. Tenzin clings to the saddle tightly, knuckles white. When they don’t let up after a few agonizing minutes, his father turns back to look at him, face serious.

“Tenzin, I’m sorry but I must ask you to be brave.” His father grabs his staff from the saddle and sits Tenzin down on Appa’s broad head. He hands him the reigns and Tenzin looks up at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“Keep going towards home, I’ll catch up with you in a bit, okay? I just don’t want you or Appa getting hurt.”

Tenzin nods and his father vanishes into the clouds below.

(It’s been thirty-odd years, but Tenzin can stills feel the bite of the rope in his hands, the pounding of his heart as he sat frozen in terror.)

It takes forever, or maybe just a few minutes before Tenzin hears the familiar swoosh of his father’s glider. Appa lurches slightly under him as Aang lands in the saddle behind him.

“Dad?”

“I’m here, it’s okay, Tenzin.” Something in his dad’s voice sounds wrong. Tenzin twists in his seat to try and see into the saddle. “Don’t look back, just fly as fast as we can back home, okay? Can you do that?”

Tenzin nods shakily.

“Appa, yip yip!”

The clouds blur past them. Tenzin doesn’t relax until he sees the familiar outline of their island come into view. They land with a thump.

“Dad? We’re home.” There’s no answer from behind him. “Dad?”

Tenzin almost turns and climbs back into the saddle. But he’d been told not to. And his dad isn’t answering.

“Avatar Aang!” He mimics his mother’s tone when she’s serious about getting his attention.

The saddle stays quiet.

He tries not to panic. Appa grumbles and shifts uneasily under him. He turns and scrambles up to the saddle.

“Dad, this isn’t fun-“ He freezes.

The side of the saddle is soaked in blood. His dad is slumped against the side, one arm tied down to the saddle with rope. His robes are stained and he….

Tenzin runs faster than he ever has in his entire life across the island.

His mother is in her office and not in the city hospital and Tenzin almost bursts into tears when he slams the door open and sees her there. His mom jumps.

“Tenzin? What-“

“It’s dad, dad’s hurt, there were people throwing stuff at us and he said to fly home and not to look, but he’s not getting up and-“ Tenzin feels the hysteria creeping up on him. His mom is already moving, slinging some waterskins over her shoulder as she stands.

“Where?”

Tenzin runs alongside her quick strides.

“He’s on Appa, the knots are too tight, I couldn’t-“

He’s never seen his mom run so fast.

They make it back to where Appa is sitting unhappily. He greets them with a concerned growl. Tenzin watches his mom use waterbending to leap right up into the saddle. He can hear her use several words that Bumi told him to never, _ever_ use. She looks back over the edge of the saddle.

“Tenzin, can you go get Sister Liu and tell her to prepare my healing room? Then wait in my office, okay?”

Tenzin nods and speeds off, heart pounding.

He gets the acolytes and sits himself in the chair in his mother’s study. The sound of people rushing around the temple halls is only slightly muffled through the paper walls. Tenzin pulls his knees up and squeezes them tightly, trying to focus on some of the breathing exercises he knows. Every time he closes his eyes all he can see is his dad, laying in the saddle, unmoving, and… and…. He refocuses on his breathing.

He's seen his mom heal his dad before, on the days where his back hurt, or if he messed up in training. He’s going to be fine. Tenzin makes it a mantra in his head as he breathes. His dad is going to be fine, he’s going to..

He doesn’t know how long it is until the door to his mother’s workroom slides open. Tenzin looks up and stares wide-eyed at his mother as she stands in the doorway.

“He’s going to be fine, baby.” Katara tells him tiredly. “Your dad is going to need to take it easy for a few days, but he’s going to be okay.”

Tenzin can feel his lip wobble wildly out of his control a moment before he bursts into tears. His mother immediately scoops him up into her arms.

“Oh, baby, you did such a good job and were _so_ brave. That was scary, wasn’t it?” Katara says soothingly.

He nods, clinging to his mother tightly.

“Let’s go see dad before getting some dinner. He asked to see you. Does that sound good?”

Tenzin nods again and is quietly grateful that she doesn’t put him down as they leave her office. He’s also glad that Bumi and Kya aren’t here to call him a _baby_. His mom slides open the door to his parent’s bedroom and Tenzin can see his dad lying in bed wearing his casual robes. There are bandages peeking out on his shoulder and he doesn’t sit up when they come in.

“Hey little buddy.” Aang smiles at Tenzin as Katara set him down next to the bed.

Tenzin looks his dad over worriedly for a moment before flinging himself forward to hug him. Aang flinches over Tenzin’s shoulder as he returns the tight hug.

“Easy, Tenz, easy.”

Tenzin relaxes his grip slightly but doesn’t move. His dad’s arms are strong around him and Tenzin can hear him breathing and he isn’t bleeding in the saddle or laying still anymore or…. Tenzin doesn’t move when his mom tries to tug him away.

He can hear his parent’s voices over his head in a short conversation. Then his mom lifts him up and tucks him on his dad’s side, instead of on top of him. Tenzin can hear his mom talking quietly as she sits down next to the bed and feels the low vibrations of his father answering against his cheek. The exhaustion of the day finally catches up to him and he falls asleep to the reassuring steadiness of his father’s breathing under his ear.

 _As long as we are breathing_ , he reminds himself sleepily.

//

Tenzin wakes up late. He blinks in surprise at the amount of bright sunlight coming through the window. He gets up and goes through his morning routine, ducking out to a quiet courtyard for a brief meditation before heading down to the lower structures of the temple for some breakfast.

“Good morning!” Pema calls, waving a floury hand as he steps through the swinging doors to the kitchens.

She has a smudge of flour across her nose and cheek, her hair hastily tied up out of the way as she works. A few strands have fallen free to frame her face. She smiles at him for a moment before returning to the lump of dough in her hands.

“Someone slept in.” She teases as he pilfers a roll and some cheese from the pantry, and setting a kettle to boil before sitting down at a stool near her workstation. Tenzin can feel the tips of his ears go faintly red and can tell by the bitten-back grin on Pema’s face that she’d noticed.

“I don’t think I’ve slept in so late since I was a teenager.” He says honestly. “Or quite so well.” He adds after a moment of thought.

Pema’s expression softens and she sets aside the dough in a pot covered in waxcloth before dumping out another bowl of partially risen dough.

“That’s good, no one can get anything done properly if they don’t sleep well.”

The kettle boils and Tenzin sets to making tea, bringing the pot and some cups back with him. He sets one of the fresh cups near Pema’s counterspace and she shoots him a grateful smile. He finishes eating and watches the steady, practiced motions of her hands as she pulls buns into existence from the dough.

“You mentioned working in the kitchen before, is it something you enjoy?” He asks curiously.

“I like cooking.” Pema says simply, hands not ceasing their rhythm with the dough. “The spiritual side of things in practice is a bit beyond me at times, but making sure that people always have a full stomach is easy and straightforward. Can’t concentrate on any spiritual enlightenment if you’re distracted by your stomach!”

She sets the dough into a waiting bowl and covers it with a cloth before setting it aside. Then she hands Tenzin a small knife, an apron, and shoves him to sit on a stool before thunking a bucket of yams down in front of him.

“If you’re going to hover and talk, your hands are free to help out.” Pema’s eyes glitter with mirth as she steps away to return to the counter, pulling out a different bowl of dough and starts rolling it out to shape it.

Tenzin smiles at her and sets to work. It’s nice to have simple busywork among the acolytes. They chat easily over their work, interrupted by the occasional acolyte needed instruction from Pema. A couple of hours pass this way, the temple slowly waking up around them. Pema wipes some flour off of her cheek and plants her hands on her hips as she scans the kitchen as they finish up for the morning.

He’s suddenly caught with the rays of morning sun highlighting the curve of her cheek as she smiles at him.

Pema is beautiful and kind and smart and caring and blunt and....

“I need to go.” He blurts out. He stands abruptly and hurries down to the stables.

//

Tenzin is twenty when he gets to go on his first solo trip as representative of the Air Nation and part of the delegation from Republic City to Ba Sing Se. His father is busy in a far island of the Fire Nation, and the usual representatives from the temples are occupied with the upcoming festival days, so it falls to Tenzin. He is as excited as he is nervous as he and Oogie land in the designated courtyard in the royal palace. The run-through of formal Earth Kingdom greetings and introductions to people he’s met before even though they all have to pretend otherwise, as well as a rundown of the schedule of meetings the next day takes the afternoon. By the time Tenzin makes it to the house designated for use by the Avatar and his family, he’s exhausted from trivial social niceties. The next day passes in a string of meetings that blur into each other and Tenzin sighs in relief when the day comes to an end. After the next couple of days pass much the same say, Tenzin allows himself to relax slightly.

He dons a slightly more inconspicuous outfit (he hates not feeling like he can proudly wear his robes or display his arrows, but he’s simply not in the mood to be stared at or approached by strangers) and makes his way to the tea shop. The Jasmine Dragon is as comforting place as it always has been. Tenzin can feel the last of the tension from the day fade out of his neck as he crosses the threshold and sees Iroh behind the counter, wiping at some cups as he puts them away. He approaches the counter and Iroh looks up, breaking into a warm smile as he spots him. He takes in Tenzin’s head covering and Earth Kingdom garb with a calculating eye.

“I was wondering when you would stop by, Junior, how rude to keep elders waiting two whole days to see your face!” Iroh wags a cheerfully reproachful finger at him before turning a plucking a pot from the shelf behind him. “Has your order changed?”

The shop is mostly empty at this time of day, but Tenzin is still grateful for Iroh’s discretion.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting, uncle.” He says, settling onto a stool and leaning on the counter. “And no, the same as usual, please.”

Iroh boils the tea with the pot in his own hands instead of going back to the kitchen, telling Tenzin about some of his more eccentric customers in the last few months. Tenzin is content to sit and listen, occasionally chiming in with something he’d done or seen since he’d seen Iroh last. Eventually, Iroh sets the pot of sweet purple tea, a cup, and a plate of crisp rice cakes down in front of him and shoos him away from the counter.

“Go, sit, relax, we will talk properly after I close up.”

Tenzin obeys, retreating and taking his dishes to a comfortable corner cushion at the end of the row of pai sho tables. He sits and lets his mind drift- the warmth of the teacup in his hands, the slight, steady noises of the teashop around him, the slight crunch of the rice between his teeth. There is a couple on a date at a far table, sharing tea and conversation. (Tenzin pangs briefly with jealousy, the distance between himself and Republic City where Lin is hitting with a sudden sharpness. He resolved to take her on a date to a teashop when he gets back.) A few old ladies are gathered cheerfully around some of the pai sho tables, swapping stories, and jeering or cheering each other on as they play. An old man with a wispy beard sits in another corner, seemingly asleep. A university student sits at a table with a stack of books beside them. Tenzin closes his eyes and lets the atmosphere simply wash by him. The light click of a pai sho tile being set on the board beside him pulls Tenzin from his musings.

He opens his eyes to find a young woman around his age with her hair pulled back into a severe bun settling into the seat across the board. A nervous looking man hovers behind her, seeming to tense to sit with them.

“Fa, go fetch me my tea.” She says, without looking at the man, who instantly bobs in an abbreviated bow before scurrying over to the counter. It takes until she sets her folded hands on the table that Tenzin recognizes her.

“Your highness.” He greets her with a shallow nod.

Princess Hou-Ting has apparently gone incognito for the evening as well, most of her usual finery left at home. She stills looks like an intimidating noble of the city, but the typical elaborate head wear and jewels have been traded for more traditional hairbands and plain metal. Her fine, sharp features are pretty enough, similar to many of the other nobles of the Earth Kingdom. (He can see where Lin inherits it from, though she’d smack him if he said so.) Tenzin eyes the decorative, sharp metal talons that decorate her two outermost fingers. They click together as she sets her hands down. (He’s heard rumors that she once slapped a servant so hard it broke her fingers and they healed crooked, so she’d simply weaponized the braces. Given how her manservant’s hands shake as he sets her teacup down, Tenzin can’t quite find himself disbelieving the rumor mill.)

“Representative Tenzin.” She responds, lifting her tea to take a sip. “How _are_ you enjoying our fair city?”

She gives him a small, triumphant smile when his eyes automatically dart around the room at her words. He grits his teeth and sits up, bracing himself to tread lightly. She watches him with calculating dark eyes that glitter like the beetles that live along the edges of the desert.

“My stay so far has been perfectly fine.” Tenzin answers. “Perfectly conducive to my work.”

“Mmm, it must take great skill to negotiate on behalf of The Republic.“ She says the name like it sits bitterly in her mouth.

“I’m sure it does. However I am here as a representative of my people, not The Republic this trip.”

“They sent someone of _your_ stature to _these_ negotiations?” Hou-Ting says, slight disbelief in her voice. Tenzin lifts a calm eyebrow.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” He says, pouring himself another cup of tea. “I am the son of a monk and a healer.”

Hou-Ting snorts in a distinctly not-royal way.

“And I the daughter of an exotic pet owner.” She idly stacks some pai sho tiles. “You are the son of the Avatar and the most powerful waterbender in the world. Every relative of yours is a name in history books and you yourself are one of only two airbenders in the world. Trying to walk through the world as anything less than you are is a foolish quest.”

Tenzin watches her silently, waiting. The princess looks back up at him.

“As such, powerful alliances are always… wanted.” She reaches out a hand to rest on his.

Tenzin glances down at the bejeweled talons, the sharp tip resting against the soft skin of his wrist. Then he deftly twists out of her light grip, pulling his own hands back out of reach.

“Of course. But that is not the purpose of this trip.” He says, wrapping his hands around his teacup.

“It’s always more advantageous to kill two birds with one stone.” She says, pulling her hand back with no indication that she’d ever reached out in the first place.

“Indeed, I was just sitting here reviewing plans for the meetings tomorrow and was able to plan a date for my girlfriend when I return home.” Tenzin allows himself some small satisfaction as her smile goes slightly wooden at his words.

“Is that so?” She says, through gritted teeth.

“Mmhm.” Tenzin hides a small smirk behind his teacup as he takes a sip. “I’m sure you’ve heard of her, Lin Beifong?”

He wishes he had a camera to capture the face the princess makes at Lin’s name. Her polite smile goes sour and stiff. Tenzin is grateful, not for the first time, of the weight Lin’s family name carries in the Earth Kingdom. Even the royal family is leery of crossing a Beifong, both in riches and power. There are few families in the world that can go toe-to-toe with Earth Kingdom royalty, and the Beifongs are possibly the only other dynasty with as much hold over the general public of the Earth Kingdom as the royal family.

“I must congratulate you then on such an advantageous match. I was not made aware of it.” She says shortly. “This is a new happenstance, I take it?”

“No, we’ve been together for several years.” Tenzin says, slightly curt. He takes pity on the manservant behind her, who has gone pale. “But we haven’t been in the papers much recently, there are much more exciting things to write about I’m sure.”

“…quite.” Hou-Ting watches him for a moment and when Tenzin offers nothing further, stands abruptly. “I’ll take my leave, then, Representative Tenzin.”

Tenzin gives her a shallow nod.

“Your highness.”

He finally relaxes when she and her manservant vanish out the door. Tenzin sits back and lets out a relived sigh. There’s a scrape against the floor as the stool across from him is once again occupied.

“Quite a gutsy move, rejecting a member of the royal family like that in their own viper pit.”

The old man Tenzin had seen sleeping on the other side of the shop grins at him from where he’s taken the seat. Tenzin shrugs a little.

“It isn’t really rejection if there’s nothing really offered.”

The old man laughs, scratching at his thin beard.

“Slippery words for slippery people.”

“I suppose. Would you care for some tea?” Tenzin offers. The old man waves him off.

“None for me, little monk.” He stares at Tenzin. Tenzin shifts uncomfortably under his sharp gaze.

“Apologies, have we met before?” He stares back at the old man, trying to place him. The man laughs.

“No, but I’ve met your father, more or less. Most just call me Lao Ge.” He says.

“Tenzin, and a great many people have met my father, it’s harder to find someone who hasn’t I think.” Tenzin sighs a little. Lao Ge gives him an enigmatic look.

“The princess isn’t wrong, you know.”

“What?”

“About trying to be in the world as something you’re not.” Lao Ge says. “Of course, it’s always an option to change yourself for the situation at hand, but that is a skill some have, and some don’t. I once knew a woman so stuck to her own ways that she had to wear a costume to be able to be someone else. Even though the whole time that’s who she truly was. But you don’t strike me as the type.”

Tenzin tries to process this as Lao Ge stands and stretches with a yawn.

“I’ll be off now. Farewell, little monk.”

“Goodbye.” Tenzin answers automatically, and before he can say anything else, Lao Ge has vanished from the shop. He blinks.

After a while, Iroh shuffles over with a fresh pot of tea and snacks and takes the seat. Tenzin sets the odd encounters out of mind as he sets up for a pai sho game and catching up properly with Iroh.

//

The Northern Air Temple fades into the clouds behind him and Tenzin can almost hear his sister’s teasing voice.

_You can’t dodge or outrun everything in life, Tenz._

Maybe he can, for a while at least.

He sets their path to the east.


	2. East

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supposedly, the Eastern Temple was regarded as the most spiritual, being the home of Avatar Yangchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update schedule, what's an update schedule lol.

Tenzin takes a meandering path east. Oogie is content to drift along the scattered path, thrilled to be out in the open sky after the long months spent grounded on the island and then the last several months at the Northern temple.

As he travels, Tenzin writes in a journal. He tries to write down everything he remembers learning from his father, all the little nuances that can’t be taught from a book.

Traditionally, he knows the air nomads only recorded the most sacred and essential ideas in writing. The rest was passed down through tellings, living on the breath of one storyteller to another. His dad had heard stories and songs passed down for hundreds and hundreds of years and told the ones he remembered to Tenzin.

Tenzin now sets them to ink, scared that he’ll forget, carrying the secondhand history of a whole people in his head. (He is as bound to tradition as he is unable to practice it- there are no other airbenders for him to tell the stories to nor for him to listen to in turn. He’d let go of that particular bitterness years ago, but everyonce in a while still tastes it on his tongue.)

He finishes writing down the parable of the young monk and the sweets with a smile. It had been a favorite of Bumi’s to dramatically act out when they were young, faking his own death with the imaginary ‘poisonous’ candies as he and Kya tried not to laugh at the silly faces he pulled or their dad trying to be the grumpy old monk. Tenzin waits for the ink to dry before closing the journal and setting it aside. While he waits he writes a letter back to Republic City. (In a week or two he will quietly ignore that lack of response. Lin is busy, it’s fine. Just as it has been fine the last couple times he’s written.) He folds it a sets it aside to send at the next town he passes before settling down for the night.

Tenzin leans back against Oogie’s warm flank, slowly letting his breathing fall into sync with the skybison’s.

He looks up at the waning moon. Opens his mouth to speak. Closes it. Shakes his head and goes to sleep.

They continue on the next day with thankfully clear skies.

Tenzin peers down and sees the distant rings of Ba Sing Se below them. For several long moments he is tempted by the idea of pulling on an old traveling cloak and hat as a disguise and losing a few days in the city. To revel in the anonymity for a while longer. Not that he’d really had that option in his life- even before his tattoos he was still an airbender, and even if he refrained from bending he was still the spitting image of some of the most famous faces on the planet. He looks away from the great rings under them, trying to shake of the lingering feeling of being a ghost in his own skin.

The city fades out of view behind them by the end of the day.

/

The first time Tenzin is truly consciously aware of it, he’s almost eight.

He’s with his parents at market and they’ve run into some boring adult from some town deep in the Fire Nation that is apparently important enough for the man to be able to stop and talk to Master Katara and Avatar Aang. Tenzin is sensible enough to not show how bored he is as the adult make polite small talk over his head. He’s watching a game some kids are playing down the street out of the corner of his eye when he’s startled by a booming laugh from the man from the Fire Nation.

It looks like the man is laughing at something his father has said, but based on the look on his parent’s face, it hadn’t been meant as a joke.

“-just like something those old airbenders believed.” Tenzin catches the man saying.

He sees the polite expressions on his parents faces freeze right below the surface. The man doesn’t seem to notice the drastic shift in mood as he talks. His dad makes some kind of diplomatic statement that ends the conversation as Tenzin notices his mother’s fingers tighten almost imperceptibly on his arm. They walk away into the crowd and the man they’d been talking to vanishes into the morass of people.

It takes him a while of pondering it, but as they walk back down towards the bay Tenzin realizes why his parents had gotten upset.

The man had been talking about the airbenders as if they were all in the past, even with two standing in front of him. As he thinks about it, he realizes that everything he’s ever studied outside of his father’s teachings always acted as if the airbenders were gone.

 _Just like something those old airbenders believed_ the man’s voice echoes in his head.

But we’re right here, Tenzin thinks, don’t you see us?

/

The Eastern Temple’s serene arches come into sight by the next night and he and Oogie groan at the same time when they land.

“It’s been a while since we’ve done a long stretch like that, huh boy?” Tenzin murmurers, attempting to stretch out his legs and give Oogie a scratch behind the ears at the same time.

The temple is quiet in the lateness of the night, the few acolytes that live there to tend to the building and grounds asleep. Around them, the battered walls of the temple block out the coolness of the night, moonlight shining through some of the cracks in the stone. Tenzin makes a makeshift camp in the stables with Oogie for the night instead. He falls asleep nearly instantly in exhaustion.

He dreams of falling. Tenzin has never had a fear of heights, but in his dream he can’t stop tumbling through the air. He can’t make the air respond to him, sliding through his hands as if he’d been attempting to bend water. His heart pounds and he tries to catch his breath, but he can’t, he can’t, he _can’t_ …. because he is stone. His eyes stare unblinkingly out over a valley, he can hear the wind whistling past him but cannot feel it on his stoney skin. He can feel the slow creeping of moss growing in the shadowy corners of his limbs, feel the small pieces of himself chipping away and crumbling into the forest below. The world passes him slowly and he can only watch, cannot move, cannot breathe, cannot-

Tenzin wakes up in a cold sweat, jerking up with a gasp. Oogie grumbles worriedly beside him and Tenzin absently pats him reassuringly as he tries to catch his breath. As he stares out at the familiar statues carved into the mountain face above them, the sun slowly creeping over their still face, the dream is already fading from his waking mind.

He goes through his morning ablutions automatically- setting the water to boil for tea and setting aside his shaving implements while he waits for the water to warm. He finishes, running a hand over his head to check for any stray hairs before rubbing the gentle seaweed lotion over the fresh skin. The jar is getting low, he should visit his mother to get more. The faint floral and salty smell of the lotion makes him close his eyes for a moment.

The familiar smell makes him suddenly ache sharply. (He can still hear his mother’s voice gently scolding him and his father when they forgot to use it in the mornings, her own soft hands gently spreading it over his smooth scalp over breakfast, followed by a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. Bumi dramatically gagging into his breakfast and Kya giggling madly when she did the same for their father.)

Tenzin opens his eyes and puts the small jar away, out of sight. Visiting his mother means going south. And he can’t, he can’t bring himself to go. Not yet. The last time he went south was for…. He shoves it away, standing and leaving the makeshift camping area.

He’s going to go find a place to spend the day meditating and reviewing mantras.

To refocus. That’s all he needs to do is focus on something useful, purposeful.

He leaves the bag with the jar of lotion behind. Out of sight, out of mind.

/

Tenzin is thirteen and completely frustrated. There’s a festival in the city tonight and he and Lin had been planning on going for _weeks_.

“No, Tenzin.” His father says again, sparing only a quick glance up to look him in the eye before continuing to write whatever letter he apparently needed to answer during breakfast. There’s been a lot of those the last few weeks, even interrupting their training together a few afternoons. Tenzin barely resists stamping his foot petulantly.

“That’s so not fair!” He protests instead. “We asked when the posters first went up and you both said yes!”

His mom walks into the kitchen and looks between the two of them, a questioning look on her face when she spots Tenzin’s crossed arms. He sits up and points accusingly at his father.

“Mom! Dad says that Lin and I can’t go to the festival tonight, but you _both_ said it was fine when we asked before, _please_ can we go?” He pleads.

His parents exchange one of those looks that Tenzin hate in these moment, like they have a whole conversation without even talking. When his mother looks back at him she shakes her head.

“Sorry, Tenz. Maybe another year, okay?”

“What? No!” He cries.

Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe puts her hands on her hips and looks him dead in the eye. Tenzin slumps back in his seat, knowing the argument is over.

He stews the rest of the morning, finding a spot of the roof to sit and brood as he stares at the city across the bay. It’s not fair, the festival only happened every seven years and his parents _knew_ that, and Lin had been excited to show him an authentic Earth Kingdom celebration (even though they both knew they’d get stuck with Su tagging along). Plus he’s been stuck on the island for weeks now, not even going into the city for anything, both his parents putting off taking him with them with vague excuses. He hasn’t even seen Aunt Toph in over two weeks and normally they all have dinner together at least once a week. He tries again in the afternoon, cornering his dad in a corner of the temple.

“Dad, c’mon please.” He wheedles. “This is a chance to experience some culture and educate myself about some of the other nations, right? You could even come with us! I know you like the dance performances.”

Aang sighs deeply.

“Tenzin, you know that any other time I would _love_ to take you both to the festival, but not tonight.”

“But _why_.” Tenzin says in exasperation.

Aang looks conflicted for a moment, before giving Tenzin an apologetic look.

“I promise to take you and Lin to the next festival that comes up, how about that?”

It’s not an answer. Tenzin knows it’s not an answer and he knows he hasn’t gotten a straight answer about what’s going on for _weeks_ and he is _sick_ of it.

“ _You_ keep telling me that airbending is _supposed_ to be about freedom, but I don’t have any! I can’t even leave this stupid island by myself!” Tenzin yells, flinging his hands in the air.

He storms off before his dad can answer, angrily making his way down to the bison stables.

At least Oogie and Appa can’t avoid his questions. (They can’t answer them either, but that’s not important right now.)

It’s easier to think about facing the world without screaming when your face is buried in soft skybison fur. Oogie grunts sympathetically as Tenzin flings himself down to curl into his side. He made a promise, he thinks stubbornly, and he wasn’t going to break it. He and Lin didn’t break promises to each other.

After dinner, Tenzin takes care to make a show of being tired and going to bed. Apparently his parents buy it, not questioning him as he slips away to his room. He waits until he is sure the building is mostly empty- his mother likes to go down to the beach and relax with some waterbending in the evening and his father and the acolytes who live on the island will be busy with evening duties- before donning his Water Tribe clothing and slipping out the window.

His plan works surprisingly well. He makes it down to the beach to his small skiff without being noticed and carefully sets off across the bay, dodging behind larger vessels to avoid being seen from the island. He is as familiar with the waters of the bay as he is the air currents that ride above them, so he crosses the small waves with ease. He makes it to the small local docks for the city and hauls the boat onto the beach behind the large pillars of the main dock before taking off into the city with a grin.

Tenzin follows the familiar route to Lin’s (well, Aunt Toph’s) apartment. No one gives him a second glance, his water tribe clothing granting him some anonymity in the crowds of the city streets. He relishes it for the moment. He can see the lanterns strung up towards the festival crossing over one of the main streets as he walks. Tenzin smiles as he ducks into the alley that cuts across the Lin’s building.

Halfway through the shortcut he’s taken dozens of times, his ankle catches on something and he trips with a yelp. A hand grabs his arm and Tenzin twists to free himself, startled. He smells something sweet and sickly, feels a sharp thumping sensation in a random pattern along his back, and the world abruptly goes dark.

/

Tenzin wakes up just after sunrise with a groan as Oogie shifts and stands. He turns and butts his head against Tenzin in greeting before taking off to explore the valley and presumably find some edible. Tenzin goes through his morning routine sleepily before wandering down to the temple proper.

He expected the quiet of the temple, the whistle of the wind through the turrets and arches, the distant chatter of the animals. He _didn’t_ expect to find someone else sitting at the edge of one of the high balconies. Tenzin creeps forward silently, poised for a confrontation at any moment, only to suddenly drop his stance.

“Kya? What are you doing here?” He asks, baffled.

His sister doesn’t bother turning around as she answers.

“Clearly I’m trying to meditate, but certain airbenders are tromping around interrupting me.”

Tenzin scowls at the back of her head. Kya glances over her shoulder with a smirk. He sighs and walks over to join her.

“I thought that you were in the South Pole with Mom.”

Kya sighs and leans back on her palms, apparently giving up on her previous meditative posture.

“I was, and I’m going back soon, but Mom noticed my itchy feet and told me to get lost for a while because I was making her twitchy.”

Tenzin doesn’t quite manage a laugh, but seriously considers it for a moment. He looks down at where his hands are clasped in his lap.

“How is she doing?” He asks softly.

“As well as can be expected I guess.” Kya says after a moment. “The first couple months were hard. She hadn’t been back for so long since Grandpa died. But it’s been really good having Uncle Sokka around.”

“That’s good.”

“She’d really like it if you’d visit, you know. Even Bumi’s been able to come down.” Kya says pointedly. The unspoken amount of time that has passed hangs behind her words.

 _You didn’t see the way she looked at me those last days_ , Tenzin thinks, and swallows down the lump in his throat. He can’t bring himself to look at his sister.

“I know. I will.”

“Hey, Tenz, look at me would you?”

A beat.

He looks over at Kya, the spitting image of their mother, decades younger. She looks faintly worried, a crease between her brows as she meets his eyes.

“How are _you_ doing?” She asks gently, as if he might break into pieces if she asked any firmer. As if he’s fragile.

Tenzin clenches his jaw.

“…fine.”

“Weird, I didn’t know that people who are fine completely avoid their families for months and only communicate with short notes so that we know they aren’t dead.” Kya folds her arms.

“I am on _retreat_ and-“

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Tenzin.” Kya waves him off. “You think that _I_ of all people can’t recognize someone running off around the world to try and avoid everything and everyone?”

“None of _you_ want to see _me_!” Tenzin says, angrily. He flinches back from his own words.

Kya looks at him in complete bewilderment.

“What the fuck makes you say _that_?” She demands.

Tenzin struggles to find the words for the guilt he feels in making his family experience grief whenever they look at him. Kya stares at him, before a sudden understanding seems to hit her.

“Oh, Tenzin, you’re such a dumbass.” She sighs.

Kya shuffles closer and pulls him into a hug. He returns it firmly, closing his eyes at the familiar sensation.

“We want to see you because we love you, stupid.” She says quietly. “It’s been hard for all of us.”

 _None of you could even look at me_ , he bites the thought back.

There’s a sharp sting at the side of his head as Kya flicks his ear.

“I can practically hear your brain whirring away in there and running you in circles. Steam is going to start pouring out of your ears. We’ve been really worried about you- you couldn’t even be in the same room with us back in the city.” She lets him go and leans back. “We thought that you just needed some space and time, but clearly that isn’t helping much.”

“I was trying to stay out of sight.” He admits quietly. “All of you looked even sadder whenever you looked at me, Bumi couldn’t even meet my eye. So, I thought it would just be easier for everyone.”

“Tenzin, do you even remember what you were like right after Dad’s funeral? You were a mess, it looked like if we spoke to loudly near you, you would have simply collapsed on the spot.” Kya looks worriedly at him. “When we did talk to you it was like you couldn’t even hear or see us.”

Tenzin blinks, at a loss.

He tries to think back to what he remembers of those few weeks before seeing his family off in their different directions. It’s mainly hazy and gray, muddled together in the pounding sense of loss, with a few standout moments. He can’t recall any conversations or interactions beyond a few.

“Yeah, like that.” Kya says. She shifts and stands up with a grunt. “C’mon, I bet you haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

He follows her down to the make-shift space she’s created to cook in in the kitchens. It’s strange to see it so empty. He blinks away thoughts of the warm, welcoming kitchen in the Northern Temple.

(They’d been hopeful to be able to move some acolytes to the Eastern Temple permanently a few summers ago, but between repairs to the temple being more extensive than anticipated, the difficulty of getting to the location, and his father’s illness, it hadn’t happened. It occurs to him that it will be up to him now to finish that plan as well.)

Tenzin takes the cup of tea from Kya and she laughs when he can’t quite stop himself from making a face after taking a sip. It’s one of her strange, bitter, herbal concoctions that was forever changing as she added dried plants to as she traveled. It was never good, in Tenzin’s opinion, but Kya always drank it anyway.

“There’s honey in the jar there.” She gestures with one hand between flipping griddlecakes over with the other. “Don’t use it all in some _perfectly fine_ tea, I want some left for breakfast.”

Tenzin resists sticking his tongue out at her, because that would be childish and uncouth, but he does roll his eyes when she looks away.

They eat together under the slowly warming morning sunshine. Kya catches him up with happenings in the South, drama between her and their mother’s bending and healing students, interesting happenings with people he knows.

“Senna had her baby a like six months ago now, she’s adorable. Mom is sure that between her parents she’s going to be a strong waterbender. And Mom and I are her favorites in the whole village, other than her parents.” Kya tells him smugly. Tenzin groans.

“That’s wonderful, but I can remember you and Mom teaching Senna her first bending forms. She’s really old enough to have kids?”

Kya laughs at him.

“She’s like twenty-six, Tenzin. Married a Northerner a few years ago when he moved down. You’re just getting old, old man.” She reaches out and tweaks his short beard before he can bat her hand away.

“Stop that. It’s good that things are growing down South.”

“I wouldn’t if you didn’t have a beard like an ox-goat. And yeah, it’s different even from what I remember when we were little, in a good way. Mom’s taken up a bunch of students and they’re all thrilled to pieces about it.”

“What about you?” Tenzin asks, setting their makeshift dishes aside. Kya makes a face.

“I do some healing classes here and there and get roped into helping with form training sometimes. Mostly I stick around the healing houses. I do like helping with the beginner classes though.” She sighs. “It’s been… weird. What have you been doing on your oh so important retreat?”

Tenzin tells her about his travels, his months at the Northern Temple, some of the new things he’s found in his studies, people he’s met, and catches her up with what he knows about their common friends back in Republic City. Kya leans her chin on her palm and looks at him with uncanny sharpness.

“So, who’s Pema?”

“What?” Tenzin startles slightly.

“Pema. Acolyte Pema at the Northern Air Temple. You’ve mentioned her like five times so far. Is she cute?”

Tenzin sputters.

“I- it’s not- I don’t- I don’t think about her like _that_ , Kya! We’re friends. And I’m with Lin.”

Kya gives him a look that he can’t interpret. Then she shrugs, taking a last sip of her tea before setting her cup down. She lays back with her fingers laced behind her head, closing her eyes as she tips her head back to enjoy the sunshine.

“If you say so.”

“I _do_ say so.”

“I am _going_ to steal your girlfriend.”

“That wasn’t funny when we were teenagers and it’s not funny now.” Tenzin leans back on his hands. Kya cackles.

“No, it’s still funny actually.”

Tenzin doesn’t bother responding, instead flicking a hand to send a small whirl of air to fling her hair over her face. Kya sputters, spitting out strands of hair before sitting up and uncorking her water pouch with a gleam in her eye.

“Oh it’s _on_ , little bro.”

/

Tenzin is still thirteen when he wakes up with a pounding head. He groans and goes to rub his eyes. He can’t.

Abruptly he remembers the alley, tripping, the festival and…. his hands are tied.

Tenzin tries not to panic, taking stock of where he is. His hands are tied with what feels like rope behind his back and when he tugs he can feel that they’re tied to his ankles, which are bound the same way. He can feel fabric around his eyes, nose, and mouth. Some of the fabric is in his mouth, thankfully clean linin just barely not choking him, but he can’t take a deep breath. He’s lying on some kind of wooden platform or floor, the barely-sanded lumber slightly rough under his face. By what little he can smell, it seems like he’s underground somewhere, the familiar damp earthy smell of stone and chill of being away from the reach of the sun slowly sinking into him. His body is sore as if he’s been pummeled with small stones. There’s a conversation in low voices somewhere in the room just out of his hearing. He concentrates of breathing slowing, not panicking, not panicking, not panicking-

“Hey, I think the kid’s awake.” A voice speaks from somewhere beyond his feet.

The faint sound of several bodies shifting reaches his ears. He counts carefully, listening for the shifting of gravel under feet. He thinks there’s at least three of them.

One set of footsteps walks towards him and Tenzin forces himself not to flinch away.

“Now kid, you’ll be just fine as long as you don’t try any funny business, yeah? We’ll just chi-block you again or worse, and I’m sure you’d like to stay in one piece, right?” The woman says smoothly. Tenzin nods hesitantly. “Very good.” She says, reaching out and patting his cheek with a cold hand.

Tenzin jerks away in surprise and hears her snort derisively before standing and moving away.

His heart pounds- he has no idea who these people are or what they want. Maybe they’re with the Triads? He knows that his parents, aunt, and uncle had been caught up in case with them a while ago, but he didn’t remember anything recent. He focuses on breathing. He is the son of Avatar Aang and Master Katara. By the time they were his age they’d already ended a war, so he refuses to be bested by some random criminals.

On the far side of wherever they are, the rumble of earthbending signals a people coming and going a few times. Tenzin isn’t sure how much time passes as he lays there. The position he’s in doesn’t let him settle into any of the familiar mantras easily. His arms are slowly going numb and the shoulder he’s lying on aches.

Instead he focuses on listing facts: he is underground, which is good, because that means that his dad and Aunt Toph and all her metalbenders can find him. It’s at least the next day, so surely someone has noticed he’s missing by now and are looking for him. They will be looking for him, and he is underground, which is good, because….

Time drifts by him, broken only by the occasional sounds of the earthbent entrance and whispered conversation between his kidnappers that seems to get more agitated every time they speak. Tenzin is distantly aware that he’s hungry and thirsty and needs to use the restroom, but he can’t exactly ask, so he puts it to the back of his mind. They seem content to ignore him and Tenzin gives them no reason to pay him any attention.

Slowly, he uses the rough wood and his own smooth head to his advantage. Nodding carefully whenever he’s sure his captors aren’t nearby, he manage to pull the blindfold up from his eyes to sit awkwardly on his forehead. It’s enough. He squints in the dim room. Tenzin can see the small group on the far side of a large, earthbent room, clearly sitting and waiting for something. He can’t make out their faces, the room only lit with a few of the dim green crystals his mother hates and a small flame idly flickering in and out of existence in the palm of a firebender in the group. There are three, like he’d thought.

The one he guesses is the earthbender stands up suddenly, like he’s about to speak.

And then it feels like the world explodes.

Tenzin bites back a scream.

Or maybe he does scream but it’s lost as the walls on either side of the crude cavern burst apart, dirt and rubble flying everywhere. There are a few bursts of fire through the dust, but they are swept aside by a suddenly blast of wind that fills the room and Tenzin with relief. There’s the sound of a brief fight on the far side of the room. The dust and rubble is abruptly bent to the ground and Tenzin can see the room.

Nearest to him, his Aunt Toph and a few of her metalbenders stand at the ready, a few other people that must have been involved trapped in strips of metal behind them. On the far side of the room, the three that had stayed with Tenzin are either encased in rock or frozen in a thick layer of ice to the wall. Some part of Tenzin suddenly realizes why there are people who are terrified of his parents as he sees them from across the room. His mother is yelling something furiously in the face of the terrified firebender she’d frozen to the wall, as his father glances back the way they’d come, at someone Tenzin can’t see around the corner to the tunnel, his shoulders tense. For a brief moment, he’s not sure if he wants to see the look on his father’s face. Not sure if he wants either of them to turn around.

He must make some kind of sound, because both of their heads suddenly snap around to zero in on him.

“Tenzin!” Aang is faster to cross the room than even the metalbenders only a few strides away from him.

He pulls the blindfold and gag off of Tenzin’s head with gentle hands. He pulls Tenzin to sit up, pausing when he whimpers in pain. Aang glances over his shoulder at the ropes.

“I’m gonna let your mom take a look before I undo those, okay? Oh, spirits, buddy you scared us.” His dad pulls him into a careful hug and Tenzin plants his face in his shoulder before bursting into tears. He can’t tell if it’s him or his dad who’s shaking more.

Katara kneels down next to them, her soft hand cupping the back of his head before moving to the ropes behind him.

“Spirits above and below.” She says, in a manner that implies wanting to use much stronger language. Tenzin manages to catch his breath a little, lifting his head.

“’m okay,” he manages to croak. “just sore. Chi-blocked me. Thirsty too.”

His father instantly bends some water from a travel pouch for him to drink as his mother slices through the ropes around his wrists and ankles. Tenzin sighs with relief as the ropes fall free, wincing as the pins and needles start making their way across his limbs. His parents help him stand, his mother pulling him into a crushing hug for a moment. Aunt Toph approaches when it feels like he can stand okay on his own, each of his parents still having a hand on his shoulders.

“You okay, Tenzin?” she asks, tapping a foot to get a look at him. He nods shakily.

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath and sighs with relief when the air answers to the light pull he gives it.

He answers the questions his aunt has about the people who took him with what little information he has- it was dark, he didn’t really see their faces, no he didn’t know them, no he didn’t over-hear anything they were talking about. Tenzin explains what happened, avoiding looking at his parents as he tells how he slipped away from the island and into the city, before they are free to go.

“Careful as you go,” Aunt Toph calls after them. “the ground is unstable in this area because of all the tunneling.”

“Right now we’re just happy that you’re okay,” His mother says, quietly, putting her arm around his shoulders and pulling him close as they walk through the tunnel leading out of the cavern and upwards. “but we will be discussing you sneaking away later.”

Tenzin nods in resignation. His father walks a couple of steps ahead of them, bending a stable path as they go, and Tenzin steps carefully into his footsteps to stay on more solid ground. Tenzin stares tiredly at the ground as they walk. He is the son of Avatar Aang and Master Katara and he resolves that he will never be helpless or caught off guard again.

Tenzin lifts his eyes to the clear sky as they emerge from the tunnel, the last tension finally dropping from his shoulders at the sight of the blue sky.

/

Tenzin drops his gaze from the clear blue sky above them, then abruptly sputters as he catches a spray of water directly into his face.

They mock spar around the courtyard for a while, sending water and air back and forth until a faint mist hangs in the air and they both run out of steam. Tenzin sits down heavily next to Kya on the broad steps leading down to the next level of the temple grounds as they catch their breath.

“I don’t know if I can meet the next Avatar, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.” Tenzin admits quietly. Kya stretches out her legs and leans back on her palms.

“It’s not like anyone will force you to meet them.” She points out. “And besides, it’ll be years before we even know who the kid is. No need to borrow any stress.”

“I’ll have to meet them eventually,” Tenzin sighs. “I’m just worried that I won’t be a good mentor or that I’ll …resent them or something.”

Kya shoves at him until he scoots back up a few stairs and she can settle down in front of him, tugging her hair wrap off and giving him a purposeful glance over her shoulder. Tenzin rolls his eyes, but dutifully starts untangling and braiding her hair. The thick brown strands are now liberally shot through with grey and silver, creating an interesting pattern in the plaits.

“You’ve been teaching the acolytes for years now.” Kya points out. “And you’ve never been able to hold onto a grudge of any kind, even when you tried to. I’d bet you’re more likely to adopt the kid than hate them.”

Tenzin snorts. Then he sighs.

“It’s just, strange to think about I guess. Knowing that he’s still out there in some way.”

“He’s not, not like that.” Kya say firmly. “Whoever the new Avatar is, they’re their own person. Don’t go looking for anything that’s not there and putting pressure on the poor kid to find something they don’t have or on yourself to find something that’s not there. That’s not your job.”

“Isn’t it?” Tenzin says, reaching the end of on braid and starting another. “Being the airbending teacher and spiritual guide seems like that _would_ be my job.”

Kya snorts.

“Maybe the new avatar will find that the teachings of the earth sages resonate more than old airbending gurus.” She teases. Tenzin frowns and tugs her braid in retaliation. Kya reaches back and flicks him in the head without looking. “But really, you won’t know what the Avatar needs until you meet them, so there’s no point in stressing yourself out about it now.”

Tenzin finishes the last braid in silence and ties it off, patting her shoulders to signal his completion. Kya bends a handful of water into an icy mirror for inspection, nodding in approval before putting it away and scooting up to sit next to him. She leans into his side, tipping her head onto his shoulder.

“It’s just that it’s, it’s…. heavy.” Tenzin says eventually. He can feel Kya smile slightly in understanding against his shoulder.

“It’s just air.” She says calmly.

They sit together for a long time, taking in the view from where they sit. Tenzin closes his eyes and focuses on both of their breaths. We are still breathing, he tells himself.

That evening under the waning light of the moon they go through forms together, switching off between airbending and waterbending stances and some of their own combinations that they’d made up as kids. The actual practice devolves into them creating small clouds and racing them around the edges of the practice space. When the clouds dissipate back to where they came from, they sit and mediate together.

Kya tells him about what she’s learned from the sages in the Northern Tribe during her time there. Tenzin listens to her stories about the people and the moon and the ocean and the differences between the stories in the different poles and lets her familiar voice wash over him. Eventually, Kya yawns and tells him goodnight.

Tenzin stays out under the stars for a while longer.

He looks up at the sliver of moon left in the sky and wonders, not for the first time, if it’s as close as he’ll ever get to the spirits.

They part ways after a week, Kya back to the South and Tenzin heading back to check in at Republic City. He stops to see if there’s anything he needs to take care of at Air Temple Island. He takes what he needs to and carefully focuses on work instead of how Lin doesn’t answer his call when he reaches out his first week back.

They manage to share lunch a few times between Lin’s own duties to the metalbending academy and his meetings with the council and consultations at the temple. A few nights, too exhausted to talk, they simply spent sitting quietly together, watching the lights of the city.

None of it feels quite right, like he needs to get back into the habit and find the new rhythm of his life here. But he isn’t needed as much as he thought, not yet.

He goes back North, hoping the cold air will help clear his head.

/

Tenzin leans on the front edge of the saddle, staring at the back of his father’s head.

“Hey, dad?”

The older airbender makes a sound of acknowledgement and turn slightly to show his attention.

“How did you know that you were in love with mom?”

Aang turns more fully to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Anything in particular that brought this on?” He asks.

Tenzin sighs and rests his chin over his arms on the saddle.

“Well, you met mom when you were my age, and I don’t even want to date anyone yet.” Tenzin wrinkles his nose at the thought.

His father chuckles and gives a gentle tug to Appa’s reins to keep them on course.

“That’s perfectly fine, Tenzin. You’re only twelve, you’ve got plenty of time ahead of you to worry about stuff like that. All you have to do is trust your heart and you’ll know when you find someone.”

Tenzin sighs and flops back to lay in the saddle. He stares up at the clouds passing overhead, occasionally seeing Oogie appear as he trails along beside Appa.

He asks his mom that night when she checks on him before going to bed.

“Mom, how did you know you wanted to marry Dad?”

His mother’s eyebrows jump upwards and she takes a seat on his bed.

“What’s brought this on?”

Tenzin shrugs and fiddles with his blanket. His mother hums thoughtfully for a moment.

“Well, I didn’t, not for a long while.” Katara laughs as Tenzin’s head snaps up in surprise. “We both had a lot of jobs that kept us very busy for a long time. There’s a difference between loving someone and wanting to marry them.”

“There is?”

“Yes, you can love someone very, very much, like family or friends. Or you can be in love with someone and not want to marry them.”

“Like Aunt Suki and Uncle Sokka.” Tenzin says. Katara nods.

“And sometimes you love someone very much and you want to marry them.”

“Like you and dad.” Katara smiles and nods again. Tenzin frowns a little. “Does that mean you can not love someone and still marry them?”

“Yes, sometimes, for lots of different reasons.” Katara smooths the blanket down and tucks him in. “What’s got you so curious about this? Is there someone you’re thinking about marrying?”

Tenzin goes pink and his mother bites back a laugh.

“No, I was just curious.”

“I married your dad because I love him very much, he loves me, and we are happier together than we are apart.” She tells him simply. “If you get married, you’ll want it to be someone who makes you happier just by being in the same room. That’s how you know.”

“ _Oh_. Okay. Goodnight, mom.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

Katara puts out the small lamp on her way out of his room. The dim light of the moon shines into Tenzin’s room and he stares up at the small sliver he can see.

He knows the story of Yue, so he knows that sometimes duty is more important than love. But he hopes not.

/

He’s interrupted from his studies by the sound of a plate and cup being set on the desk beside him. Tenzin looks up blinking in the suddenly dim light. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he’d sat down in the library. Pema is standing next to him, a soft smile on her face.

“I didn’t see you in any of the dining areas today, so I thought you might be hungry.” She explains, handing him a water flask, and setting a small pot of tea on the table beside them.

“Oh, thank you, Pema.” Tenzin gives her a slightly sheepish look. “Honestly I just got so immersed in the readings I completely lost track of time.”

Pema laughs.

“I’ve been known to do that every so often as well. I’ll let you get back to it.” She turns to go.

“You can stay, if you would like.” Tenzin says. Pema turns back around, surprised. “I mean, if you have duties to attend to, please don’t feel any obligation or-“ He hurries to add.

“No, no, I don’t have anything that needs to be done right now.” Pema says, sitting down at the bench beside the table next to his reading desk. She picks up the teapot she’d brought and pulls an extra cup from her robes. She gives him a sheepish look when he raises his eyebrows. “I… kind of hoped to share some tea and conversation with you.”

Tenzin smiles at her, holding out his cup for some tea as she pours.

“That isn’t something I hear often, I must admit. People tend to find me… stuffy.” He says awkwardly, cooling down the tea with a careful wave of his hand. Pema looks at the tiny whirlwind over his cup with wide eyes for a moment, before looking up with an affronted expression.

“Who said that?”

“My sister, mostly.” He says wryly. Pema snorts into her tea.

Tenzin turns to face her, pulling his feet up to cross his legs on the bench. Pema glances at the desk.

“That’s a lot of lists.”

“I have.. a lot of duties to take care of. This was my attempt to sort what needs to be done.” Tenzin gestures to the various scrolls and half-completed pages of writing. Pema peers at them curiously.

“Well, I’m always happy to help, you know I know this library better than anyone else here.” She smiles at him and Tenzin finds himself smiling back.

“I’m sure that I’ll take you up on that.” He tells her. “There’s a lot to work through.”

They both look around at the aisles of information around them. Tenzin bites back a sigh. Pema gives him a careful look.

“Do you have something that you’d like to accomplish that isn’t part of all that? Maybe if you gave yourself some kind of goal just for yourself it would be easier.” Pema suggests.

Tenzin looks around the library, thinking. The soft yellow light and the ends of scrolls and books is soothing. It sparks a memory from deep in his mind. He thinks about the journal tucked into his travel bag.

“I would like to collect all of my father’s writings. He filled so many journals and scrolls, and I have no idea how organized they are. Eventually I want to continue helping with the preservation and use of airbender materials, but that would be a start at least. He always told the best stories. And,” Tenzin looks down at his hands. “it would be nice to be able to share what he documented about his life. As well as the rest of my family. If I am ever fortunate enough to have children of my own, that’s something I’d like to be able to pass along to them.”

Pema smiles at him.

“That sounds like a great idea. I always wanted a big family myself, that would be something amazing to pass down to your kids.”

It feels like a small part of the weight he’s been carrying lifts at her assurance. He smiles back at her.

True to her word, Pema helps him with the cataloguing and research for what needs to be done moving forward, where he dreams of taking what remains of the air nation in the future. Tenzin shows he how to walk through the basic airbending forms and stances, carefully stepping around and around and around. He finds himself helping the acolytes in the kitchens, trading stories with Pema and getting to know the other acolytes. He loves hearing about her life. Acolyte Li Wei is one of her close friends and Pema teases that they could be distant cousins with their close heights. Tenzin shows them the adapted Southern Water Tribe dishes that his mother had come up with and Pema shares her signature sweet bean buns. She daubs a smiling face on one.

“That’s me.” She declares, decorating another with a beard and arrow. “That’s you.” She tells Tenzin. She daubs a face with a squiggly mouth and thick eyebrows and shows it to Li Wei. “This one’s you.”

Li Wei protests, throwing flour at Pema in retaliation. Pema laughs and blows some back into Li Wei’s long hair. Tenzin watches, biting back a laugh.

(It doesn’t even occur to him how long it’s been since he’s had to do so.)

/

Weeks later, there’s a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.” Tenzin calls out without looking away from the scroll he’s transcribing. He squints at the faded ink.

The door opens and shuts and when he glances over Pema is standing with a small pot of tea. He smiles at her.

“Good afternoon, Pema.”

“I thought that you might have gotten caught up in this and might be in need of some refreshment.” She holds up the small teapot and cup in her hands. Tenzin sits up and realizes that she’s exactly right.

“Thank you, this is exactly what I was needing.” He stands up and takes the pot and cup from her, setting it on the small table beside his travel desk.

Pema still stands in the same spot, twisting a fold in her robes nervously. Tenzin raises his eyebrows.

“Was there something else you needed to tell me?” He asks.

She gives him an almost startled look. It looks like she’s going to speak several times before she takes a deep, steadying breath.

“I’ve decided to be honest about my emotions, because supposedly it’s always best to be straightforward with these kinds of things.” Pema says finally, straightening up. She seems to steel herself. “Tenzin, I’ve had a lot of time to think these couple of months you’ve been back and it’s only fair for you to know that I’m in love with you.”

Tenzin stares at her, stunned.

“I love how passionate you are about your culture and the conversations that we have, and I’ve never been so at peace during meditation than with you.” She continues hurriedly. “It’s so easy to be with you and I’ve never felt this way so strongly about someone else before. So, I love you.”

Pema looks at him anticipation and slight terror warring on her face. Tenzin clears his throat awkwardly.

“I… am flattered, Pema, but I am seeing someone and have been for quite some time now, so-“

Pema stares at him stubbornly, folding her arms.

“Whoever she is, she doesn’t make you happy, Tenzin.”

Tenzin sputters.

“Lin and I have known each other our whole lives and have been happily-“

“Then why don’t you ever mention her?” Pema interrupts sharply. “If she’s _so_ important to you and you are both _so_ in love, why haven’t I even heard you say her name until today?”

Tenzin gropes for an answer and can’t find one.

“If she loves you so much, where is she? Has she even _been_ to the temples?” Pema demands, stepping forward.

“Lin is very busy with Republic city and working to take over since her mother decided to leave and…”

“She’s not here.” Pema says firmly. “She’s not here, but I am, and I love you. I understand everything about what your duties entail with the future air nation. I cannot honestly say that I have the patience to wait around to figure out for yourself just how miserable you are in your relationship, so I’m saving us time by being up front.”

She reaches out and grabs his hands. Tenzin feels like his fingers are numb under her gentle hold.

“I know you have a lot to think about right now, but will there ever really be a good time? I can wait for an answer, you can take your time. But I just wanted you know that you have the choice.”

She lifts herself up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his cheek. Tenzin stares as Pema walks away, mind running a million miles an hour.

/

He goes West this time, trying to leave thoughts of kindly green eyes and soft smiles behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kya's simple griddlecakes are dandelion and tulsi basil flavored. (If you want to makes them yourself, use a pancake recipe without sugar, and fresh picked and washed dandelion flowers [the younger and more tender the sweeter they'll be] and chopped basil mixed into the batter. Good with cheese or honey.)  
> The tea (technically an infusion) that she makes and Tenzin hates is indeed random dried herbs- the mix in this case I imagine being yarrow root, tusli basil, lemongrass, and echinacea. (Tenzin prefers mints or green or like pineapple sage.)

**Author's Note:**

> The needles used the in the tattoo ceremony are visually stylized after traditional Thai bamboo needles.


End file.
